Shared Watch
by Quiara
Summary: Who wants to live forever alone? Not Will. But how many immortals can /you/ name? (Hint: he happens to fall in love with one of the Six, and it isn't Jane.)


"I'll never forget you, Master. Please stay with me." Will Stanton's light soprano rang clearly in his own ears. He hoped that he did not sound as miserable to his audience as he did to himself. He looked with longing at Merriman Lyon's stern face.

The ancient eyes that were always cold softened as they looked down at Will. Hope leapt in Will's heart. Merriman turned away from his imminent departure, and held out one hand to Will. "I will stay."

Will was almost like a little boy again, leaping into the arms that reached down to embrace him. Merriman's cloak flapped in the breeze, wrapping around them both. Will kissed his master's cheek, saying joyfully, "Thank you. Thank you for staying. I love you, Master."

A tug on his shoulder tore him away from the joyous embrace. "Will? Why are you crying?" The voice was familiar. When he put a name to it, the arms around him disappeared. Will was suddenly cold. He was alone again. He was not standing on a hillside halfway between the worlds. He was tangled in a sleeping bag on a frigid floor, weeping on a borrowed pillow. He had changed, lost his childish soprano, gained a man's height. Years lay between him and the moment in his dream. 

His friend was on the narrow bed in the room, looking down at him worriedly. Bran Davies' face, which had no color except for his golden eyes, pulled the dream back full force. Will knew he could not explain his feelings about the dream to Bran, or to anyone else.

"I'm fine," he managed to say, rubbing his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. "Just a bad dream."

"I'll say. You woke me up, crying like that." Bran half-smiled. "Maybe it was dinner. You're not used to our sheep-farmers' fare anymore." He deliberately made his Welsh accent heavier.

Will tried to smile back while dispelling the remnants of the dream. "I didn't have trouble with it back when I was recovering from hepatitis. I shouldn't now, when I'm perfectly healthy."

"That's true." Bran grinned, but his eyes were slightly blank. After Will's hepatitis, he and Bran had been on a quest together that only Will remembered. "That was a funny autumn, though, wasn't it?" Bran asked vaguely.

"It certainly was." Thinking of his first visit to Wales brought back more memories of Merriman Lyon, the man in Will's dream. He had left years before, not died, but gone beyond the world. No one had any memory of him or the things he had done except for Will. "I don't think I'll be able to get back to sleep."

"You might want to, especially if we're going walking tomorrow, up above Cwm Maethlon." Bran yawned in the middle of his advice, and lay down to go back to sleep. "You know, for a minute there, I thought you were dreaming about Gwion."

The name brought Will fully awake with adrenaline pounding through his veins. Bran ought not to remember that. Gwion was a man they had met on a quest before Merriman had left. "Gwion?" There was no answer. "Bran?" Bran was asleep again. Will could not join him, but lay awake in the darkness, thinking about the next day.

*

They walked over hills cloaked in fog, saving their breath for the walk. They climbed faster than they had the last time they had visited the hills near Tynwyn, because they had both grown since then. Bran was still as slender as he had been as a young boy, though now his legs were longer. Will had grown out from stocky into muscular, though his face retained a bit of its youthful roundness. Bran's white hair and skin contrasted with the dark glasses over his eyes. 

"You know, I think I'm lucky," Bran said when they stood looking down at one valley that was quite full of clouds. "If I'd been born in California, I'd never have been able to go outside at all. Here, it's not so sunny that it hurts my skin."

Will chuckled quietly after glancing at Bran to be sure that he was joking. "I'd never have thought of that. Yes, Wales is a good place for you."

"Nothing but mud, rain, and sheep." The teasing note was gone from Bran's voice.

"I don't suppose the scenery makes you want to stay." They reached a hill above Llyn Barfog, the Bearded Lake, and looked down at it. It was rather sinister. Weed grew around its edges, clouding the water. The mists rising from the surface did not add to its charm.

"Not particularly, no." Bran kicked a stone, and watched it bounce down the hill.

Will took the opportunity to change the subject. "Do you remember anything?"

Bran looked at him quizzically, arching his eyebrows above his tinted glasses. "Remember what? I remember the last time we were up here. We brought your friends to see the sights, and then we left." He paused, listening to the words he had said without thinking. "We left?"

Will nodded. "You remember more than you think you do. Do you know where we went?"

"Away." Bran sat on a larger outcropping, looking down at the wet grass at his feet without really seeing it. Will sat next to him.

"Away to a place with a glass tower with a wheel that spun and spun, and a dancing horse that wasn't a horse at all."

Bran took off his glasses and looked at him sharply. "How do you know my dream? Were you speaking yours aloud last night, so I was in it, too?"

Will stopped, and bit his lip. He knew that the next explanation was going to be difficult. Once he had gathered his words together, he said, "It wasn't a dream. You've only forgotten it, halfway."

Bran almost laughed, but it caught in his throat. "How could there be a glass tower, and a dancing horse skeleton, and a sword that shone like the morning?"

The answer was as solemn as Will could make it. "There were all of those things. You remember Eirias." He tried to catch Bran's gaze to see what effect his works were having, but Bran looked down at the lake.

"The sword, yes, how could I have forgotten that?" Bran shook his head as if to clear it. "The crystal sword was in the glass tower. I remember that. And after, when I needed it most, it blazed like flame." He stopped himself. "What an odd dream I had."

Will was too encouraged by Bran's words to let him stop there. He wanted someone to share his memories, and the burden that came with them. Though Merriman had meant for him to stand watch for the Light alone, he was too human to be comfortable without someone to talk to about the duty. Raising his voice, he called out several words in the Old Speech while looking directly at Bran.

Bran stared at him, not understanding the beginning of the spell, then put his head in his hands as Will fell silent. "I remember now," he said quietly. His words were almost drowned by the breeze. "I remember my father. The afanc. The Dark. Everything." He looked up at Will coldly. "How could you remind me of that? I was happy being ignorant."

Will reached out, meaning to touch Bran's shoulder in comfort, but let his hand fall before it made contact. He could feel the aura of power and royalty around his friend. He had rashly awakened the Pendragon, and made Bran angry. It was not a comfortable combination. "I've been alone for so long. I'm sorry. I needed to know that you remembered, too." Now he was the one who could not meet the other's eyes. He stared intently at the grass.  
  
"It was a terrible thing to do." Bran's voice held a deeper note than it had before, one of dignified censure instead of the disapproval of a teenaged boy.

Will could not find the words to respond to this Lord of the High Magic in the proper way. He used a human appeal, knowing it would be insufficient. "I am sorry. I was weak." He tried not to look anywhere near the angry face glaring at him, but Bran's hand grabbed his chin and forced his head up so that their gazes met.

"Do you have any idea what you've done to me?" There was pain in Bran's voice. "I remember now, all of it, but I do not have the sword, and you do not have your Signs. We have a battle to fight without any weapons."

Will did not flinch away. After a few moments, Bran let his chin go. "We have everything the Light had at the beginning," Will answered slowly, as he searched his memory for the answers. When he spoke, he answered the question as an Old One. Their personal concerns did not register for the moment, only the long, lonely battle that they must fight. "The Dark is not here as strongly it was when we fought it before, and so we do not need the crystal sword and the other Things of Power. We are fighting the darkness that is inside people." He paused, and felt his awareness of the global perspective faltering. "We only need love to do that."

The echoes of inhuman power that had driven Bran to speak with authority fell away. He became an adolescent boy again. The moment of magical influence had passed. He swallowed before he answered, for his throat had gone dry. "Do we have that?"

Will tried to smile. "I believe so."

"Oh. Are you sure?"

The repeated question took away all of Will's certainty. "Not yet."

Once they were back into their normal roles, neither could look anywhere near the other. Bran put his sunglasses on again. They stood and walked apart, then started back down the hill by silent accord. After several minutes, Bran was the first to speak. "I just thought that, well, since you gave me my memories back, you must have done it for a reason."

"Yes, I did."

After a minute, Bran asked irritably, "Well, what was it?"

Will fidgeted with the string on the hood of his jacket as he walked. "When I say it, it sounds petty. I wanted to really talk to you again, not just 'How are you? What are you studying in school?' We did such glorious things together. I missed you."

"You could have come to visit more than once in five years." Bran's tone was mild, but it was clear that he had been hurt.

Will tried to apologize, but found that he wasn't actually sorry for the lapse. "No, I couldn't, don't you see? We could have talked, but you wouldn't have been, well, really you."

Bran stopped at that, and shook his head. Will paused and looked at him inquiringly. "You can't have any friends who haven't battled the Dark for possession of the world?"

Will almost laughed, but the tightness around Bran's mouth warned him that it would not be a good idea. "We went through so much together. It would have been like betraying the person you had been, to spend time with the person you became."

"I've always just been me." Bran's tone was more bitter.

"You have not. You were my ally against the Dark, my best friend, and then all of a sudden, you weren't. It was hard for me to lose that part of you, even if I didn't really need an ally anymore." Will tried to find the words to explain more clearly. While he paused, Bran spoke, more ironically and gently than before Will had tried to apologize.

"You didn't need me, but you wanted me. Is that it?"

"I suppose. You were my friend, when you knew what we'd done. When you forgot, you weren't as much, and we didn't have anything to talk about at all." Will sighed as he recalled how painful that time had been for him. "I was alone. I didn't like it then, and I didn't like it yesterday. When you were half remembering, I knew I could break through to the rest of the memories, and then I wouldn't be alone."

"You aren't alone now." Bran took one of his hands and held it between two pale palms, warming the chill of the foggy day out of Will's skin.

Will looked at him nervously, but made no move to recover his hand. "Are you with me, then?"

"You know I am." Bran took a step closer to Will, so that their knees were almost touching.

"You were angry." Will faltered. He had been frightened to see the High Magic in his friend, though he had missed its influence the most. This new Bran, with his knowledge and power, was intimidating.

"You abandoned me for years. It took me a few minutes to adjust. I'm not so used to being infinitely wise as you are." That brought a laugh from Will, though his legs were trembling slightly. "I thought I was just a boy."

"You've never been just anything, Bran." Will put his free hand on top of Bran's, and smiled at him. "When I knew you before, you were the beautiful prince who drove out the Dark with a blazing sword."

"Beautiful? Me?" Bran was incredulous. He reached up and pulled off his glasses so that he could narrow his eyes effectively. He tucked the glasses into his pocket.

Will laughed. "Yes, you, with your bright hair and lovely eyes."

"I didn't know you felt that way about me." 

Will paused a moment before answering. The silence between them was filled with the misty breeze, but warmed by the touch of their hands. His adolescent nature was uncomfortable with frank declarations of affection, but he understood that Bran needed to hear the truth. "I didn't know, then. When I realized, I knew you'd forgotten who I really was."

"I remember now, all of the help you gave me when I needed it, everything you helped me learn once I knew who I really was. Smile, Old One." The title was gently mocking. The Light and Dark had no part in this part of their friendship. Bran spoke as one teenager to another, faltering and nervous. "I remember that I loved you then."

The words cheered Will and restored some of his confidence. He smiled faintly, then asked, "Would you mind awfully if I, um."

The corner of Bran's mouth twitched as he suppressed a smile. "If you what?"

"I'd rather like to, well, to kiss you." Will blushed and looked away. Bran pulled his hands away from Will's. "Please?" he asked, realizing as he said it how pathetic he sounded. The smile fell away and he looked at his shoes intently. When Bran said nothing, he sighed, said, "Damn," very quietly, and took a step away to begin walking down the hill again.

He was pleasantly surprised when Bran's arm caught him around the waist and pulled him back. The other hand settled on his shoulder as he turned to face Bran. As their lips met, Will realized how desperate he had been for this acceptance. He answered the touch eagerly.

At last, they broke apart. Bran looked at Will's bemused face and burst out laughing. "What?" Will asked, not certain how to respond to someone who kissed him and then laughed at him.

"You. You're so impatient. Did you think I'd say no, after everything?" Bran glanced up at Will, and giggled helplessly again.

"I didn't know," Will protested. "You didn't say anything."

"Silly immortal boy," Bran chided as he regained his composure. "I couldn't very well say yes that moment."

"Why not?"

"If we begin together, we can't very well break up." Will had been preparing to be angry, but the truth stopped him. The finality of what he'd done to both of them was becoming apparent. "You'd be alone again, and I would be, too. Forever."

It was a very sobering thought. "Oh. I hadn't thought of that."

"It's not a problem, really. I can't really complain. You gave me back my true nature." Bran grinned, and kissed Will on the cheek. "I just had to make sure I knew what I wanted before I kissed you."

"Ah." Will shook his head slightly, but it did not help him to understand what Bran was thinking. "So, if I ask, will you, um, kiss me again?"

"I suppose you'll stop stammering more quickly if I just say yes." 


End file.
